More Than Words
by Avillie
Summary: Mary had two little lambs, one black one white as snow. And all the things that Mary said, her sheep would surely follow. But, one disobeyed her rules this day, which made the wolf real mad. And now he thinks that they must pay. Poor Mary will be sad.
1. Welcome Back

"You remember the rules?" 

"I never forgot them."

"Good, then you never forgot what I'm capable of?"

Silence.

"Shoppach, '95? Oh, and Barton?"

A sly grin.

"Surely you remember Kelly."

"What do you want, Ted?"

"You know what I want: twenty minutes with Stacey, no guards; a safe haven in Phoenix; and two one-way tickets to Me-hi-ko."

"No."

"What?"

"I said 'No.'"

"I heard that part, but what was the other—the part after 'no'? What was it?"

Silence.

"Was it 'Van'? Or did you say 'Deaq'? I didn't quite catch that..."

"You can have ten minutes with Stacey, your own one-way to Mexico, and ten thousand dollars, OR, zero minutes with Stacey, a bullet in your ass and a one-way ticket to hell. Guess which sounds better to me."

Amusement.

"I thought you remembered the rules?"

"I said I didn't forget them; that doesn't mean I follow this time."

"Fine. You never did like my rules. Fifteen minutes with Stacey, a single, one-way ticket to Mexico, and immunity from your boys—we wouldn't want to get them involved, now, would we? Mina?"

Wilhelmina Chambers lowered her gray glasses and looked up with a weary smile. "Then I get Robbie. And, I want out. For good."

----------------------

Hey guys, this is my first story here... I hope I'm doing this right & I hope you all like it! I promise it will get more detailed--my openers are always different... :)


	2. Candy Store Crimes

"Billie!" 

"What are you guys doing here so early?" Their boss asked, looking up from her desk. She knew it wasn't everyday the two of them were both on time for work; she knew something was up.

"He did it," Van's smile was more than a mile wide; he had been laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"_It_?" She asked stumped, wondering what exactly 'it' could have been. Whatever he had done was obviously very funny, so she smiled back, crossed her arms, and listened.

At least the something was a good something.

**"It."** Van replied instantly, eyes flashing in surprise. "Remember? You said you'd give him five hundred dollars if he asked that Williams' girl out."

"—On a _'bad'_ date." Their boss added somewhat intrigued by this conversation. Her fingers rose to cover her red lips as she studied the modestly quiet Deaq, and she knew that he wouldn't be telling this story.

"Get this!" Van continued. "He gets to her house and hits her car, so she decides to drive to the restaurant. Where do they dine? At Chunk's!"

"The gas station?"

"Yeah! Oh, man, that was brilliant. They had three-week-old pizza, and Big Fred was all hitting on her too! Oh, and then, he brought her back to his place, lit up some 'citronella' candles, burned the popcorn, ruined her brand new leather jacket, AND made her watch the home videos we lifted from the Mariano case!"

Van was bordering hysterics. His eyes roared with excitement as his boss cocked her head in disbelief.

"You're kidding me." Billie replied silently pleased. Her fingertips scratched down to her chin as she played the story out in her head.

"Does he look like he's kidding you?" Deaq laughed, amazed by his partner's amazement. Billie didn't need his reassurance; though Van was being overly dramatic, she could tell he wasn't lying.

"Deaqon Lavelle Hayes is a dating disaster!"

"Only when I have to be—" He replied, no longer enjoying Van's enthusiasm. Billie was either puzzled by the sound of his middle name, or she was trying very hard to picture an angry Jenny Williams—her face was nearly frozen with narrow eyes and a slanted smile.

"What was the deal with that girl anyway, Billie? She didn't seem so bad—why do you hate her so much?" Deaq was eager to change the subject, but his boss was ready to end the conversation.

"Probably the same reason Van talks to himself in the bathroom, and you don't like cats." She said, robbing their faces of smirks. "It's a personal thing—end of story. Deaq, expect a juicy bonus in your paycheck this week."

"Wait—who told you I didn't like cats?"

"The same person who just reminded me you two are still on the clock." Billie grinned and, for the first time since her boys entered, returned to her computer screen. However, her thoughts were not on work; she needed a way to tell them she was changing their assignment. Without, of course, drawing too much attention to the case.

"Speaking of work, which is the purpose of our being here on this lovely day," Deaq hinted, tired of working early mornings, "I got this theory. What if Felch ain't the king pin?"

"What do you mean?" Van inquired; it almost made sense to him, but he needed to hear something serious to find his work-mode.

"Well, if we can't hook him to anything but the drugs, maybe it's 'cus he isn't our guy. He could be the middleman—maybe there is a bigger fish to fry."

"Like who?" Billie bit her lip, but, as Deaq started to reply, her phone rang. She picked it up instantly, praying it was the call she had been waiting all morning for, but her focus remained entirely on Deaq's theory.

"I don't know 'who,' it's just an idea, remember? But it makes sense."

"Except for 'one' minor detail." Billie smiled, hanging up the small, black receiver. "He just confessed to everything: the kidnappings, the murders, the threats to Allison Chase."

As she had planned, Robert Felch had turned himself in, and the case was officially closed.

"That's it? Both boys seemed surprised, but Deaq was the only one to speak.

"'That's' great." She corrected, "You guys should be thrilled; no more murder mystery"

"So, if the case is solved, why are we still here?" Van grinned anxiously; he had been dying to test-drive the new Lamborghini, and, as his partner had mentioned, it was such a beautiful day.

"Because you're still employed by the L.A.P.D." She laughed, shattering their day-off dreams. "I got 'this' this morning; I think it's a little more your style."

With the click of a key, a lengthy e-mail popped up on the overhead. To save them the details, her mouse trailed to her taskbar, and she brought up an already-open file.

"Theodore 'Chump' Saunders—former problem of the East coast—is now our problem. He's recently out of prison and supposedly out here on vacation. But, his parole officer seems to think he'll be dealing with more than just sun—if you know what I mean. This guy is looking at strike three, so he's going to be careful, but," Billie stopped for a moment, nervous about revealing Chump's one weakness. She knew it wasn't _part of their scene_, so to say, but she also knew it was the only way they could get to Saunders. She needed to find a way to sugar-coat their new task, and she did, with a smile.

"He really likes to gamble."

* * *

Thank you for the reviews, guys, I appreciate them so much! I'm also glad my little opener grabbed your attention, and I only hope this chapter compares to the last. 

No, Robbie is not Billie's son (though that would make quite an interesting twist considering what I have in store..) I don't want to tell you guys too much, but I will tell you he does play a fairly crucial role in what is to come. I hope you can see what is going on, but if there are any questions, I'll be happy to explain.

DKM, regarding your comment about my pen name, thanks! I was afraid to use it at first, but I said the heck with it. What it means is basically that I am all for Van/Billie, making me 'A Villie." It is a pretty name, and it is growing on me (just don't ask me to pronounce it, because I can't help you there). Speaking of Villie, I think you have a tad of it in you too! Please update your story again soon!


	3. On Your Mark

"Can you believe this?" Deaq cringed, opening his wallet for a twenty-dollar bill. 

"I know," Van laughed in total disbelief. "Fifteen bucks for a ten-minute wait, one hot dog, and two Cokes?" He turned angrily to the puberty-stricken teen with braces, "We are writing your manager!"

The boy only shrugged, handed them a crumbled, five-dollar bill, and turned his attention towards the next customer; Deaq sighed as he stuffed the money into his wallet and walked away from the greasy concession stand. "I can't believe this,"

"Dude, I'll pay you back!" Van yelled, chasing after his partner. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew they needed to find Chump amongst the four thousand spectators at the Los Angeles County Fair.

"Not that, Van," Deaq hollered back. "This new case— It's bogus." He could barely hear himself think, the crowd was so large, but, somehow, Van had heard him perfectly.

"I don't know, seems pretty neat. Horse racing? Seriously, I didn't think this was still around. You know, we should try it sometime. I bet I'd beat you."

Deaq laughed; his partner was sadly mistaken—but not about horse racing. He knew he could beat Van at anything, especially racing, but something still bothered him about their new assignment. "Not that," he repeated, "I'm talking about Felch."

"That's, uh, the old case, buddy." Van laughed, biting off more than a mouthful of hot dog. Now that he could see the race track, he wasn't entirely listening to his partner; he was busy trying to locate Mr. Saunders.

"I _know_ that," Deaq's response was agitated. "But, why are we here?"

His partner immediately turned to him, with a look of concern on his face. "Because…" Van said dumbfounded. He swallowed his food and took a large sip of soda, but still managed to finish his sentence. "We're on the '_new'_ case? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but doesn't it seem weird to you? I mean, when was the last time we had an 'open-shut' case? When was the last time the bad guy went down without a fight? When was the _last _time you saw a known felon-slash _axe murdere_r-type criminal up and confess all his _no-no's _to the cops--openly accepting the _death_ penalty?"

"You know, you're right." Van nodded his head for a second, "That is _pretty _strange. But, you know what else? By whatever freak-of-nature that it happened— _it happened_. Let's just forget about it and worry about the 'here and now', okay, partner?"

* * *

Thank you all for the feedback, it is a great motivator!

Fan4Fastlane, welcome to the story! Thank you for your comment--is has made my day :)

DKM, "Bingo" must be your middle name, because I'm trying my hardest to create an authentic story. I can't really stand when characters are written... well, out of character. I hope this chapter meets the same standards :) PS, please don't leave Van alone for too long!

prplerayne, pleasure to see you again. I'm glad I still have your attention & I haven't disappointed you.

My apologizes for not posting a 'dramatic' chapter, but trust me when I say 'there is one coming up'--you'll get to see what Billie is up to while her boys are away...


	4. Long Time No See

"Never thought I'd see you again, _ever._" Stacey grinned from her cot, as the steel bars of her prison were opened. She couldn't help but smile when she saw the face of her visitor.

"It's been a long time."

"Not long enough." Billie retorted with a fretful sigh; she, unlike the woman before her, had not been looking forward to this moment, and as she studied the small cell, she felt her stomach turn. As she entered, and heard the door close behind her, her heart skipped a beat, and a slight tingle overtook her body. She felt her cheeks flush as she searched for something to say, but Billie could not find her words—she was, for some reason, too distracted.

It wasn't that she felt bad, or even an ounce of pity, for the blonde—she just couldn't swallow the sight of cement walls and iron cages. She had already been behind these bars once, and once was more than enough. But, she knew what needed to be done, and she knew she didn't have a choice.

-

"So," The shorter woman smirked, eager to end the silence. "What's the deal? You've forgotten my birthday for the past three years—what makes today any different?" She asked, seeing how distressed her old friend was; her job was going to be too easy.

"Because today," Billie laughed and reminded herself of whom she was dealing with. "Teddy wants to see you." She finished with a confident grin.

She knew how manipulative Stacey could be, and she knew she had made a big mistake by walking in there without her game-face on. She also knew that she had the upper-hand in this mess and all she needed to do was keep a cool, clear head, follow orders, and keep her distance. If she didn't, she wouldn't be able to protect herself, let alone Van or Deaq.

"Teddy?" She gasped; her eyes opened wide with fear and she shook her head. "Teddy is alive?"

"The bear himself—And I'm not only the messenger, Stace, I'm the delivery-boy." Billie pulled out her handcuffs and walked towards her, "Hopefully your game isn't rusty, because I'm not saving your ass this time."

The woman rolled her eyes and put out her hands innocently—not that she would be trusted. Was this the same Billie she had known before, was all she could wonder as she listened to the metal close around her first wrist. Instantly, she began to reconsider her whole approach—Mina had obviously changed. But, why had she have agreed to go along with Ted's plan? There had to be some reason for her cooperation, and she needed to figure out what that was— if she was ever going to be able to control her again.

"You know," She gasped, "you really are an act, aren't you? You're so tough—so high and mighty. But, seven years later, you're still running all his errands." Her arm was forced behind her back, and the second cuff was shut with anger; Stacey knew she had hit the right button. "What are you so afraid of?" She continued, but Billie only grabbed her other arm and lead her to the exit.

"Guard!" She hollered out, hoping the on-duty officer wouldn't take his sweet time walking back. He didn't, but, even if he had flown there, Stacey wouldn't have stopped her attack.

"I've seen you fight, Mina; you could have him down in a heartbeat—he wouldn't lay a finger on you_ if _you didn't let him..."

Billie closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. That was the truth, and they both knew it. But Stacey was still new to this game of Ted's, and she wasn't fully aware of the consequences—or, if she was aware of the things he was capable of, then she was just toying with her again. But, either way, this was the end of the road for both of them. She didn't know what he had in store for Stacey, and she didn't care.

She was done with all of it.

* * *

Hey guys, I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to update! I've just been swarmed with projects and tests--not to mention, this was a tough chapter to write. (I may very well have written it about 20 different ways!) I suppose NOW I should go and write that paper--it's only due in 10 hours. (The good news is that means I have one less deadline, and more time to write!) 

Foxy Wombat! Welcome to the story! I hope you haven't become unhooked in the time it's taken me to update. I know it's been a while, but I'm flattered by your feedback, and I hope Billie wasn't too out of character in that last post. That was a big part of my delay--I didn't want her to be over dramatic, but she had to be obviously disturbed. (Tricky, tricky.)

Fan4fastln, I wonder if you've gotten an idea of what's coming. I've been trying to drop a lot of hints along the way, and I wonder if anyone has picked up on them. Thank you for your feedback, it means so much to me!

DKM, hehe, oh, I can't stop grinning about your story. You know what I'm talking about! Well, I hope you consider the thing I mentioned in my review--because I'm still dying to know!

prplerayne, I hope that last chapter answered at least one of your questions. But, yes, there will be a lot of butt-biting coming up, especially when they catch up with Ted. :)

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! My apologies again--I really should have updated sooner, and I promise I'll try to get another chapter ASAP. I do have another big project due next week, but after that there should be smooth sailing until December.


	5. Quick Silver

"You remember when I said I hated nothing more than surfing?" Deaq asked, nervously looking around the horse stable. "—I might have been wrong."

Van almost laughed at his partner's remark, but, at the moment, he wasn't exactly thrilled about this either—it was so wrong, and he didn't like it any more than Deaq did. "It really smells in here, and I don't think this guy is ever gonna show." He said raising one hand to cover his face, "Are you sure Billie said he checks the horses before _every_ race?"

"Quote-unquote, Man, but she never said _anything_ about bugs. I _hate_ bugs!" Deaq replied swatting at a giant fly—not realizing how badly that motion would startle horses.

One nearby mare jerked back against her ties, and whinnied loud enough to scare them both. Deaq also jumped backwards and almost sent himself, and Van, face-first into a lovely pile of something neither one wanted to think much of. But fortunately, they were both able to keep their balance. Unfortunately, however, all the excitement kept them from noticing a man's shadow had appeared behind them.

"You know," Deaq gasped, regaining his posture, "we should get a raise for this."

"Tell me about it!" Van quipped, "She has_ no_ idea what we do for her."

"She who?" The man finally spoke, and the boys were startled once again. This time, both Van and Deaq jumped—they weren't just surprised, they had to wonder how much of their conversation Chump Saunders had overheard.

"Ah, ...our horse." Van blurted out; at the moment, it had sounded like a good response, but he quickly regretted saying it.

"Yeah… Our horse—you know? …She just doesn't appreciate us." Deaq added jokingly.

"You racin' her?" The man asked with a raised eyebrow. He brought his thumb to his chin and studied the two men carefully.

"No. We're actually here in search of a new fragrance," Van replied sarcastically, turning his eyes from a brown horse that had recently created its own scent. Despite Van's humorous reply, Saunders didn't even blink. "All Natural; Estée Lauder." Van added, hoping to get at least a chuckle.

Chump thought about Van's comment for a moment, and then nodded his head with a grin. He even started laughing, which made Van and Deaq laugh in return. But, he asked another question.

"What's her name?" He wasn't about to be played, not by two fools, anyway. His fingers traveled to the side of his neck, and the boys went quiet.

"Quick Silver," raffled Deaq, from the top of his head—it was the only 'horse-name' he knew, and after he said it, he wished he had kept his mouth shut.

"Quick Silver?" The man laughed again; he was completely puzzled. "There ain't no horsse heere byh that naame, son."

Van was completely nervous, but he could tell Chump was faking an accent. He also knew that the man's shortened hair and goatee was an obvious sign that this guy was trying to change his looks. And, that meant he was probably hiding or not in the mood to make friends. They needed a new approach, and they needed it fast.

"Well, that's because shee ain't heere yet." Deaq grinned, trying to hide his anger. He too had picked up on Chump's phony accent, and he chose to mock it with his own.

"Oh," Van interrupted the tension. "There she is now." He pointed to the only vehicle he saw that looked capable of transporting a horse, smiled, and gestured for Deaq to follow. Deaq got the hint, but, as they left, Van had another great idea.

"Nice meeting you…" He squinted, pretending as if he had forgotten the man's name. He knew they had not been introduced, but he also knew that they _already_ knew his name, so unless Chump himself told them, it would be very suspicious for he and Deaq to 'magically' know 'Chump Saunders'.

"Chump. The naame's Chump."

"Nice meeting you, Chump." Van smiled, "A little parting tip for you, though, don't vote on that guy over there." He said, unknowingly pointing towards the youngest mare in the stables.

"Blue Streak? But she's the best stretch-runner on this side of the globe."

"Maybe, but, between you and me, her odds are 'very' unlikely."

"S'like the man says, _very_ _un_likely." Deaq repeated his partner's words with a casual wink. He wasn't sure what his partner was doing, but he had to play along.

"If yaa sayy so," laughed Chump, not buying their story for a moment, "but I'll taakee my chancees wiith'er."

The boys left the stable; Van was biting his lip, hoping that his plan would work. Deaq's only hope was that his partner would fill him in--and actually have a good plan, for once.

* * *

Wow, you guys are good. It appears that you already see Stacey is playing her own game here. I know you're going to love what happens next--when she and Billie catch up with Ted. I just hope you all picked up on the irony of Van's reply to Deaq's coment about a raise--I'm a big fan of irony, so I couldn't help but throw that one in. 

Well, DK and prplerayne, thank you for sticking with me. I hope I haven't lost any readers, but if I have it's my own fault. I should have never let my story hang like that. Sorry again, guys..


	6. Into Dust

"Campgrounds in the middle of California, who'd-a thunk it?" Stacey joked as she stepped outside the red Mustang. Her hands had been cuffed together for the duration of the ride, and she was greatly relieved to out of that car.

Then again, after three and a half years in prison, she was just grateful to be outdoors—even if she didn't know what was about to happen.

"Let's go," Billie instructed, slamming Stacey's door shut. She imagined that her 'bad mood' would have been enough to keep the blonde quiet, but it never was. Halfway to the small, log cabin, she heard a five-letter, b-word mumbled, and she stopped dead in her tracks; her head turned instantly,

"Do you _want_ to ride home in the trunk?"

Stacey flashed an innocent smile, tilted her head sideways, and laughed. Her small teeth were as white as ever, and her long, blonde hair fell to her left, revealing a scar that ran down the side of her exposed neck.

Billie looked away.

She started walking again, this time faster than before. Already, she had spent the whole hour-long drive thinking about the misery Stace had caused her—one scar was the least she deserved. But, she couldn't think about any of that now; she had to focus on the task at hand—the deal.

She had agreed to a ten-minute reunion, and she had driven over a hundred miles just to meet up with Ted—in the middle of the woods—so, where was he? There wasn't a car (or even a place to park a car) anywhere; he had to be running late. Billie only hoped she would be able to check out the cabin before he arrived.

As suspected, the door had been left unlocked. Somehow, security was never an issue with Ted, but even knowing that didn't ease her mind. She peered inside; the place was dark, and it smelled of mold and mildew. Her stomach turned, and a chill ran through her body, but she reminded herself of why she was there; she needed to end this, once and for all.

She entered the one-roomed cottage cautiously, though there weren't many places to hide. Her fingers reached for the light switch, however, with two blown bulbs, the lamp didn't make much of a difference. At least she could see the place was empty—apparently, it had been empty quite some time.

-

"Gross," Stacey sighed, thoughtlessly walking in behind her, "Let me guess." She started with a smirk, but Billie shot her a look, and, for once, she shut her mouth. She could tell that the black-haired woman was nervous about this whole thing, and she had to wonder if this was more than just a meeting…

Billie _was_ nervous. She had a very bad feeling in the pit of gut, and she now knew it wasn't just the foul smell. In all honestly, until she had opened that cabin door, she hadn't thought much about 'why' Ted wanted to see Stacey—especially after three years.

What was he planning?

Her eyes continued to skim the small cottage; it was eerily cozy despite being so bare. There was a round table, two chairs, a bed, and the walls—complete with several built-in kitchen cabinets.She opened each cabinet and, within the third, found the source of the stench—a water pipe was long overdue for repair, and most of the surrounding wood was rotting. Under the bed, there was dust. There were no sheets, blankets or pillows—only dust.

She couldn't find a weapon or anything that could possibly be used as a weapon; that was, undoubtedly, a good sign.

With a deep breath, she turned to Stacey—standing by the round table, blowing away some of the dust—hands cuffed behind her back. No matter what was to come, it would be just plain cruel to leave her like that. Defenseless.

Billie sighed and took out a set of small, silver keys from her front pocket; for a minute, she wondered if she should even care, but a bigger question popped into her mind—could she stand by and let Stacey die? She hadn't thought about that either, but she knew that she could live with Stacey's death a lot easier than the alternative. Still, would she do nothing? As much as she despised the woman, Billie wasn't sure if she _could_ let her die, and it was more than the fact she couldn't return a corpse to prison—she honestly knew she could not sit by and watch a murder unfold. But what other options did she have?

That knot returned in her stomach as she thought over the consequences; her heart skipped a beat as she remembered what had happened to Kelly, and she couldn't think of her boys in the hands of that bastard. There was no way in hell she'd let Ted hurt them—she wouldn't fail them the way she failed her partner. No matter what, she would save her boys, and to save them, she needed to remain focused. She couldn't be intimidated, especially not when she was so close to being free from this mess. She blinked away her doubts and fears and un-cuffed Stacey's left hand.

The woman had tears in her eyes, and she smiled graciously when she realized what had happened. But Billie had been played too many times to fall for those tears; she cuffed Stacey to a chair and started for the door; She might not be able to save her, but she could at least give her a fighting chance. "See you in fifteen minutes."

"What? Wait!" Stacey cried, "Where are you going?"

"Outside," Billie replied, looking at her watch. She knew that Ted was never more than fifteen minutes late—and she had promised not to interfere. "Have fun."

"You can't just leave me here with him." The blonde pleaded; the fear in her voice pierced Billie's heart, and as much as it pained her to keep walking, she had to.

"Please, don't do this, Wil! He wants to kill me!"

Billie stopped in the doorway and slid her fingers through her dark hair; she grabbed a fistful of it behind her head, and thought everything through. Why _would_ Ted want to kill Stacey? With all the power he had, if he really wanted her gone, she'd be gone by now. Plus, she had practically gone to prison for him; if anything, he'd be there to thank her.

"Yeah." She finally agreed, dropping her hand down casually. Act or not, she had never seen Stacey this frightened, and after all those times her fears had been played on, it only seemed right to return the scare. "He probably does." She said tilting her head, the way Stacey so often did to get her way. "Can't say I blame him though. Look on the bright side, though, at least you won't have to go back to prison."

Billie smiled to herself and left just in time to see a silver car pulling up the drive way.

* * *

Sorry again, guys. I meant to post that on Monday, but it's a good thing I didn't. I revised it again, and I think this one is even better, but you tell me what you think.

DK, glad you liked that last update--I hope you liked this one just as much. As for the Van comment, all I can say is that the next post should resolve any questions regarding his scheme. Depending on how much I add, it might also resolve the Billie/Ted/Stacey mystery too--but I think I'm going to end it with a teaser, because I like having lots of time to write the action scenes.

_Would you guys prefer a delayed 'big' post, or a couple of smaller ones? I can go either way._

kittikat, thank you for your review! It means more than you know to me. It's nice to see new faces, because it tells me that I'm doing something right, and review-worthy. I hope you stick around, because I doubt you'll be disappointed by my ending.. I've been plotting this story for a very long time, and I'm very excited about it myself. hehe. But, thank you again for reviewing!

prplerayne, if you liked that, there is plenty more coming up! I only hope that the dialogue is as funny to you as it is to me. Sometimes it's hard to write humor, but I do try. Thanks so much for sticking with me this far (you too DK)--I've had problems with readers in the past, and it's really hard to write without a few loyal posters--there's just no reason to continue. It's nice to know I do have a reason to go on, and I thank you for contributing to my muse!

As for anyone else who might be reading, please feel free to speak up. Don't be shy--Just say, "Ooga Booga" or something. I do love hearing what you've got to say--that's why I write :)


	7. One

"Quick_ Silver?_ Why didn't you just name her Lassie!"

"Well _excuse_ me, at least I could think of a horse-name. And what's with Blue Freak? 'Don't vote on Blue Freak'? Is he runnin' for president?"

"It's Blue _Streak_, you dope, and judging by the ribbons around …her place… she's... uh, the pick of the litter."

"_Pick_ of the _litter_!" Deaq shot back with a laugh; his face dropped in amazement, and he shook his head. This was great; here he was, totally out of his element, and Van was completely useless. "And you think _I_ don't know anything about horses?"

"Okay, fine. We both know squat! But, we have to at least 'appear' as if we know a lot of… squat if we're going to get Mister Phony-Pants to trust us."

"So, let me get this straight," Deaq rubbed his forehead and sighed. The more he tried to understand his partner's plan, the more it worried him. "To gain his confidence, we're going to tell him _not_ to bet on the horse that will, in all likeliness, _win the race_? Great plan! We're screwed!"

"No—that's not the plan." Van laughed and clapped his hands together; he was eager to explain his ingenious idea. "The _plan _is to _rig _these races. So, when everyone is betting on this… fast horse, _our_… faster horse… will win. That way, we will not only _look _like we _know _what we're doing, we'll look like we have the inside-scoop on every race. _This_ will open a window to Mr. Pants by gaining his attention and trust, and start business. All we need is a 'Quick Silver' and a way to give her a sure-shot at the… um… ribbon?"

"Trophy."

"Right. Trophy, that's what I meant." Van nodded as he pulled out his keys and unlocked their yellow Lamborghini with a push of a button. Compared with all the pick-up trucks and mini-vans around it, this car screamed wealth, and he didn't want to take any chances. He was about to slide into his seat when he noticed Deaq leaning on the roof of the car staring at him.

"Hey?"

"Yeah?" Van asked tapping on the car key nervously; he hated it when his partner got all serious—after all, that was supposed to be his job. But, he knew they would never, ever get their boss to go along with this if they weren't even in agreement.

"Just so we're clear…" Deaq said while rubbing his chin; the look of worry on Van's face was priceless—he couldn't help but change his mind. Instead of bringing up the old Felch case again, he simply joked "I ain't hurtin' anybody's horse…"

> > > > > > > >

**(Back at the campgrounds)**

Not ten minutes after she had left, Billie saw what little light there was go out inside the cabin. It worried her a bit, but she forced herself to mind her business. She had convinced herself that Ted only wanted to talk with Stacey—after they were done talking he would leave the country, Stacey would go back to prison, and things would be back to normal; no one would ever know.

Billie walked to the side of her car and leaned against it, waiting patiently for their time to run out. Thrice, she strummed her fingers against the newly polished hood, and her eyes scanned the treetops. She then looked at her nails, let them run through her dark hair, and jumped as her cell phone rang.

Out of embarrassment, she sighed and let her upper teeth bit down on the corner of her lower lip. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone, flipped it open and answered as she usually did, but she could hardly hear a reply over the static.

"Van?" Billie yelled, raising her free hand to cover her other ear. "I can't hear—_What!_ A horse? _Why _do you—" Her sentence had stopped almost as soon as it had started. Had she just heard someone scream?

Before she could convince herself otherwise, she saw the familiar sight of gunfire light up the dark cabin. But, for some reason, she didn't react instantly. Instead, she dropped her phone in disbelief and approached the front door as if she had never seen a house before. She took her gun and a deep breath, and kicked down the door and stepped in.

Her eyes scanned the room, top to bottom, side to side, but she found nothing. No people. No bodies. Nothing.

There was absolutely nothing in that room—except the walls, and the bed, a table and one, single chair.

That's when it hit her.

> > > > > > > >

**(At the Candy Store)**

"What'd Billie say?" Deaq asked spinning around in their boss' chair. He was ready to clock out, but they had yet to resolve their horse issue--they needed her okay before they could start shopping.

"Nothing?" Van replied somewhat distant, the way he usually replied when something was wrong—or, at least, when he felt something was wrong.

"Nothing?"

Deaq agreed there was something wrong with Billie's response to "Can we buy a horse?", but his partner's response had been just as vague. He tapped his fingers together, waiting for Van to say something more, but, as usual, his partner was silent.

"Nothing—At all?" Deaq pried.

"Yeah," Van was miles away. "She just stopped talking."

"Weird." Was all he could reply. It was probably nothing--a bad connection, a dead battery? Maybe she thought Van was pulling a prank, or, knowing both her and Van, she probably just hung up, thinking he was being a nuisance. He wasn't worried, but he couldn't say the same for his partner. He was still stuck contemplating every possible thing that could have gone wrong; Deaq probably could have recited the alphabet, or done the Macarena and Van wouldn't have budged.

"Call her back." Deaq tried once more to break Van of his silence, and it worked. He watched his partner shake his head and scratch his neck.

"I did. It was busy."

"Even weirder?" Deaq replied, wondering if weirder was even a word. It certainly didn't sound right, but as he had imagined, Van didn't budge.

> > > > > > > >

**(Campgrounds)**

The second chair was missing.

Billie clearly recalled seeing two chairs in that room; now, one was gone—and Stacey had gone with it. And, since one had also been the number of exits, she knew that they were still in the cabin; they couldn't have escaped without being seen.

Her heart stopped as she realized this, but before she could turn to defend herself that second chair hit her hard. The blow sent her straight to the ground, and as she tried to get up she felt someone grab her shoulders. Two large hands shoved her back down with a force she could not match. Her lip split as her face met the dusty, wooden floor, and she could feel blood trickling from her nose, but she still managed to take a breath.

One breath was all she needed to clear her mind and regain her edge, and, with that breath, she saw her situation from afar. Ted was on top of her, frantically searching her for keys; Stacey was off to her left somewhere, still chained to that chair.

What she had to do was too easy.

Billie threw her head back as hard as she possibly could—thoughtlessly hoping to return the favor of a broken nose. Her plan worked. Ted jumped back in pain, and, as he did, she rolled off her stomach and kicked him in his side. He fell instantly, and Billie's attention turned to her gun; she had dropped it the moment she was attacked, but it hadn't fallen far. She dove for it but came up several inches short. Even with her fingers stretched, she could not reach it.

She needed that gun if she was going to get out of this.

With all her strength, Billie pushed herself up and scrambled for the gun; but, just as her hand had touched it, she was yanked backwards by Ted. He had caught her feet, and, despite her wiggling and kicking, he was dragging her back—away from her gun.

Billie tried to roll off her stomach, but each attempt she made failed; he somehow managed to counter her every move. It was pointless to try and escape his grasp; she needed to find another way out.

She stopped her squirming and waited for Ted to finish dragging her across the floor; when he thought he had her far enough away from the gun, he grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her to her feet. She had been counting on him doing this. As he reached to put his large arm around her neck, she let her elbow slam into his throat. That stunned him for a moment, but it was not long enough for her to get away.

Ted continued his attack with punches—each one, Billie managed to avoid. Fortunately for her, all that swinging wore him out quickly, and when he finally stopped to catch his breath, she knew she had him. All she had to do was give him one good jab, grab Stacey, and run. She clenched her right fist and let her arm fall back, but before she could even move she felt a sharp sting in her left arm.

Her mind went blank. All that had happened was forgotten; everything she had been thinking was now gone. She couldn't hear, and she could barely see. And though she could both taste and smell blood, she couldn't remember what she was doing, or what she had done; all she knew was that her left arm was on fire.

Not literally, of course, but it hurt like hell.

She looked down to find a small, bloody hole in her sleeve, just beneath her shoulder, and a tiny, nervous laugh escaped her lips as she tried to figure out how it got there. She started at it in amazement as pieces of her memory returned, but they weren't back in time to remind her of Ted—or the fight. And, since that distraction was all he needed to end their battle, he took advantage of it.

His first and only blow sent her straight to the ground. She closed her eyes and tried to keep from spinning, but that was impossible. All she could do was try and catch her own breath, and figure out what was about to happen. With a gulp of blood, she opened her eyes and looked around the room; Ted was standing by her feet, and Stacey was standing over her head—with her gun.

* * *

Hey there, everyone! Hope you had a wonderful holiday! I know I did..

Sorry this post took so long, hopefully it's worth the wait. I think I mentioned I'm nervous about the action scene--let me know if it's okay.

prplerayne --I'm wondering the same thing :) Honestly, I haven't really thought much about their 'past'. I've planned a flash back or two, but my focus is on the future. However, that scar _was_ mentioned for a purpose--you'll see..

DKM, I'm sorry I've got you so twisted--hopefully it is a good kind of twisted. I don't want you to be confused, but I don't want to tell you everything...I do want to point out the woman named Kelly.. I mentioned her in the opener, and she is key to the Ted/Stacey/Billie drama :)

Well, I'm glad to see you guys liked the last post--I hope this one is just as good :)


	8. White Lies

It was well after ten when the side door finally swung open, but, even before it had, Van had heard high heels and jingling keys outside the office. He was undoubtedly glad to know his boss was back—now, he might actually be home before midnight—but he also dreaded leaving; he knew his partner had some choice-words for Billie.

Deaq took a breath. He rarely confronted her like this, and he didn't like or even want to. Still, the more he thought about this case the more wrong it seemed. It bothered him so badly he couldn't stop thinking about it—and he'd spent the past few hours compiling a mental-list of all his complaints. He closed his eyes and thought of the perfect way to start his protest, but he never did.

"Oh. God."

The words slipped through Van's lips as he slid from Billie's desk; he had been sitting there for almost a half hour waiting for this very moment—the moment when Deaq would actually take Billie on—but it seemed as if he had already missed the fight…

"Billie? What happened?" Deaq managed to spit out the first sentence; his anger had faded, and his mind was now filled with guilt, worry, and confusion.

Van had tried to ask the same question, but he hadn't found the words. His eyes narrowed at the sight of his boss—her head low, and arms crossed—something was wrong. She was stiff and so visibly sore his heart ached; he clearly saw that blood had stained her pale face, and the thought of that made his own body tense. He didn't dare take another breath until she answered Deaq's question.

"What are you guys doing here?" She asked, hoping to conveniently change the subject. "You were supposed to be off three hours ago."

It figured they had stayed late tonight, of all nights.

She brushed past Deaq, ducked by Van, and, without even lifting her head, she gestured a smile and sat down at her desk—praying, just once, to escape their radar.

"What happened?" Van repeated his partner's question without delay; he wouldn't give her a chance to open a file or turn on her computer— she couldn't use busyness as an excuse to avoid them. They needed to know who had done this to her, and why.

"Nothing… really." Billie licked her bottom lip—it still tasted of blood, and that made her nervous. She hadn't gotten a good look at herself, and apparently she looked pretty beat up—she didn't know how long she could keep up this charade.

Her arm hurt, and her head ached, and she knew that they'd keep prying until she cracked. But what could she say? She couldn't tell them anything—for their sakes.

"Well, something apparently happened; otherwise you'd still be in one piece." Deaq joked, trying to clear the air. He could see Van's glare wasn't helping, and he knew she'd never say anything if she wasn't comfortable.

She laughed and rubbed her injured arm—hoping to pass it off as shock. "I'm okay, really, guys. I just need a minute… and maybe an aspirin."

She avoided their eyes by closing her own, but she knew they would need more to be convinced. "Some punk-assed kid threw a rock at my Mustang. I got out to nab him, and, apparently, he wasn't alone."

"So what happened?" Van asked; his face didn't move a bit.

"I didn't win the fight." She grinned humorously, letting her left arm fall from her right; she let it dangle between her legs, as casually as she could, without revealing her wound.

"You get the kid?" Deaq asked defensively.

"I got him." She smiled. "I got the whole group of them. Thanks, Deaq." She was glad that at least he bought her story; Van, on the other hand, was still trying to figure her out. "Now, who has a horse? Or should we save that for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Van replied; his face softened a bit, but he was still searching for another explanation. However, he knew that, as usual, she wasn't going to willingly tell them anything, so he figured he'd spare her the aggravation.

"Yeah." Deaq chimed in, "You look like you could use some rest."

"Thanks," She said again, with a quick and grateful nod, "Night, guys."

She lowered her head as they walked away and listened for the door to close; as soon as she heard it, she stood up and made her way towards the bathroom.

Her calm face crumpled in pain, and she wondered how she had managed to hide her hurt for so long.

Tears filled her eyes as she fell against the bathroom door; she felt dizzy, and didn't think she could stand on her own again. But, she knew she had to, and so she tested her legs and stepped forward.

She used her good arm to reach back and grab her sweater, then tried her hardest to pull it over her head. Carefully, she removed her left arm from the shirt and flung it towards the ground with her right.

Ted had saved her life.

She bit her lip hard, hoping to relieve some of this tension, but all she succeeded in doing was reopening her split skin.

Why?

She laughed, and looked towards her shoulder; it really wasn't as bad as it could have been. The bullet had barely hit her—it had just grazed her skin. It could have shattered a bone, punctured a lung, or even pierced her heart—but it didn't. Still, it was a wound, and it needed treating.

But why hadn't he let her die? She couldn't help but wonder as she searched through the medicine cabinet. Why did he save her?

She dug out some gauze, paper towels, alcohol, and adhesive, then turned to her shoulder. After checking to make sure there was no fabric caught in her gouge, she poured antiseptic down her arm. It stung so badly she saw the room jolt sideward, but she closed her eyes and tried to focus.

With a paper towel, she padded her skin dry, and grabbed the gauze. After taping it down, and rubbing her arm, she grabbed the bloody towels and tossed them in the trash bucket.

She took a breath and hoped to God it was over.

> > > >

"Am I supposed to pretend I didn't see that?"

Billie stopped dead in her tracks. She had barely made it out of the bathroom when Van's voice had called out.

He was sitting in her chair, fiddling with a pencil, but he didn't look up. He knew she'd be mad—and he knew that was an understatement—but he couldn't just forget about it.

He needed to know the truth.

"See what?" She laughed, but made no attempt to cover her arm—it wasn't as if he hadn't figured it out. She just looked around for Deaq, but he was no where.

"Your arm," He replied after a moment of thought; he looked her straight in the eyes, "You got shot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Billie laughed once more; again, she turned her head and wished him away, but again that didn't work.

"Right. Then let me spell it out for you," He was trying to be patient, but she was being as stubborn as ever, and he couldn't take it. "Scrapes, cuts, splinters—that's our caliber in the first aid department!_ Bullet _wounds _usually_ require professional medical attention. Say, from hospitals?"

He knew he had her, so he shut up and met her eyes one last time. "Tell me what happened."

She didn't look away, and she didn't close her eyes. If she had, she would have surely told him everything. But, she couldn't do that. She could see in his warm smile, he was already trying to fix this. If she told him anything now, he'd spent the rest of his life trying to settle the score, and this wasn't a game; he'd get himself killed chasing after Ted. Just like Kelly had.

"I told you, Van," Her voice became hard with a blink, "I was jumped."

"And I'm telling you I don't believe you. _Who shot you_?" He demanded—he didn't want to push her away, but he knew that he had already lost her. She looked away again, and that was that. "You know what, fine!" He hollered with, throwing his hands in the air, "Forgive me for caring! Just, whatever you're doing, try not to get yourself killed!"

And with that he left for good.

* * *

Sorry guys, that was another late post. I did make it much longer though :) That was originally supposed to be two different chapters "White Lies" and "Silent Cries" but they go together nicely, and I hope they make up for my delayed post.. 

I would have got that up a lot sooner, but I had to really think about that injury--I couldn't make it too serious because, in the wise words of Smeagol, "Long ways to go yet." (Sorry, Lord of the Rings kick.)

FoxyWombat! You are back! I hope everything is all right! I'm happy to see it wasn't my story that made you go away :)

DKM, all I can say is "you ain't seen nothing yet," haha --what is with me and quotes tonight? Seriously, though, I hope you will love the rest of this story as much as I do. Any updates with your story? I'm heading there next :)

Prplerayne --I get the feeling you're a Deaq fan.. Please don't hold your children while reading this story--especially when you're reading chapter 10! I hope you'll forgive me for what has to be done..

My two new readers-- Ashlyns and Shalimar1-- Thank you soo much for reviewing! I almost died when I saw the number 21 next to my story--it really made my day! I hope this chapter has made yours :)


	9. Two Plans One Fate

"So, you both like this plan?" Billie asked, returning from the backroom vault. She had a badge buried deep in her sweatshirt pocket, the morning paper in her hand, and a smile on her face.

They had been there for almost an hour now, and not one word had been spoken about yesterday's confrontation—they had only discussed the Saunders case, and she was trying very hard to keep it that way. She dropped the morning paper on the table before them and crossed her arms.

"Yes," Van replied sharply; he jumped up from the Candy Store's red couch with a huff, and he clenched his fists. It had taken Billie all of five minutes to consider his plan, and he knew that, just by the way she had come back, she was not impressed. "As a matter of fact, we do. Don't we?" Van turned to his partner, knowing that once Deaq approved, she would too; he hated that about her—she always listened to Deaq, not him. She was always on Deaq's side—even when Deaq was on_ his_ side.

Deaq nodded.

"See," Van whined, not letting a moment pass, "Deaq likes the plan. Why don't _you_ like it? It's a great plan!"

"It _is_ a great plan," Billie assured him, pressing her lips together thoughtfully, "but, it's too costly. I mean, why buy everyone off when you already know who the key players are? If you're sure Blue Streak is going to win, get her to be your horse. "

She waited till they both understood to throw in the curve. "There's only one problem—with both plans."

"The real Blue Streak," Deaq thought with a laugh. "She can't just disappear—she's already registered for the last fifteen races…"

"What? Is she Brittney Spears, or something?" Billie snorted back, "It's a horse! I'm sure it won't be hard to find her a double."

Deaq rolled his eyes in defeat, but Van smirked. He realized what she was talking about—it was the reason she had slammed that paper down before them—no matter how they rigged the race, they'd have to deal with Jeff Reilly. Blue Streak's glory-bound owner.

The man's photo was on the front page, under the heading "Nine Races Till World Record" Van picked up the paper and handed it to Deaq.

"Claim-to-Fame," Van sighed. "So, how are we gonna get him to go along with losing all his pride?" He asked before speaking under his breath, "Guys gotta have pride."

"That he does." Billie smiled. She pulled out a golden shield and tossed it towards Deaq. "But, if he doesn't have a choice in this, then he doesn't have a choice."

Deaq grinned, but now Van wasn't very pleased. "He gets the badge? How come he gets the badge?"

"Because I trust him to not blow cover." She retorted; it was as simple as that. But now Deaq was confused.

"Wait—I get the badge, but I can't flash it?"

"I didn't say you couldn't flash it." She said with a grin, "I just said you couldn't blow your cover"

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay," She laughed, knowing the cryptic would win her their undivided attention on this case—and keep them away from _who got the badge, and why_. "Van, you're rigging the race on your own. Start with twenty thousand dollars, but don't pass fifty. If he doesn't bite, get violent—make threats—get caught."

"Caught?" Van blurted out; Billie's eyes motioned towards Deaq.

"He saves Reilly's ass, but lets him know more's on the way." She let that idea dangle before them, and when they were finally on the same page, she addressed Deaq. "Tell him anything—his life is in danger, the world is ending—whatever it takes to get him to play along. Just, whatever you do. Make sure _only_ Reilly sees that badge—otherwise it will jeopardize your cover with Saunders."

Deaq nodded when he understood the complexity of his mission—Billie was asking him to be a triple agent in this game—he was the good guy undercover as a bad guy, but the hero at the same time; it was a great plan. He would get to arrest Van, maybe leave him cuffed in the stables overnight—it was a brilliant plan!

"Oh," Billie started, before they could leave, "and don't let Reilly see you two chumming around, okay?"

"_That_ would be my greatest pleasure!" Deaq laughed as he got up from the couch; for a moment, he was afraid her catch was something serious—as her catches usually were—but this was just the icing on the cake. No Van, a badge, and a super-sensitive mission? It didn't get any better than this…

Van shot them both a distasteful look. Billie left for her desk, and Deaq was busy shining his medal. He couldn't pass up the chance to torment Van.

"So, um, partner? You gonna let the '_cop'_ drive?"

"No way," Van sneered, "You get the badge—I get the keys. And, why're you drivin' with me anyway? We're not supposed to be together, remember? _Chum_?"

"Fine. Be like that." Deaq laughed, "Hey, Billie! You got the keys to the Mustang?" He had beaten Van to the car, and was now grinning foolishly at his miserable partner—it was like taking candy from a baby.

Van sighed in defeat and turned towards his car selection. They had already tested the Lamborghini, and the Jaguar was out of commission thanks to Felch and his posse; he was left with either the Camaro or Billie's black Denali—which he didn't dare touch.

The Camaro it would be.

"Am I waiting for you, or can I just go?" Van asked before sticking his head through the car window to make sure the keys were inside. He pulled out just after his partner had mumbled something, so he looked up to see whether or not he was coming—he wasn't.

Deaq and Billie were just standing there—eyes locked on eachother's.

Van could see the look on his boss' face and knew his partner had said something—what it had been, he didn't know, but it had seriously pissed her off. She was perfectly still with her jaw slightly open in shock—yet, at the same time, Deaq was also motionless.

He, on the other side of the room, could feel the tension between them, but he would never know why. Deaq would leave, and Billie would return sit at her desk and start on paperwork.

Van was left to wonder…

> > > >

"Mister Reilly!" Van hollered, standing from his seat in the empty stands, "Mister Reilly, could I have a word with you!"

The tall, bald man stopped walking and turned to see Van approaching with a grin and a briefcase. He took a nervous gulp of air and asked how he could help, but Van smiled.

"Actually, Sir, I was hoping I could help you." He smiled, "What if I told you I could make you a very, very wealthy man?"

> > > >

"Detective Hayes," Deaq announced himself, placing his badge down on the counter and reciting its number. "I'm here to speak with Robert Felch."

The security guard behind the glass window nodded and asked him to wait a moment; Deaq sighed. He didn't mind the wait—he'd wait for hours just get to the bottom of his former assignment—what he minded was getting the run-around from his boss.

All he had asked was if the DNA results from the envelope sent to Allison Chase had come in—it would have linked Robbie to the threats, and ended all his doubts about the case. But, in seeing Billie's eyes alone, he knew the results were negative—and, more than that, he knew she had been almost mortified by the fact he had brought it up again; something was wrong. And, of course, she wouldn't tell him what, so he could either forget about it entirely, or find out for himself.

Another guard appeared behind the gate as it buzzed open, and this man asked Deaq to empty his pockets into a small bucket. Deaq complied, handing over his cell phone, gun, wallet, watch, and car keys before he followed the guard.

After about a three minute walk, Deaq saw a familiar face—Robert Felch. His greasy blonde hair had been shaved away to nothing, and all that remained of the creep he had been scheduled to purchase heroin from was a small, bruised prisoner in an orange jumper.

Deaq ignored his appearance and got straight to business. "Robbie, hey!" He laughed as if it were a coincidence to see him. "How you doin' man?"

"What do you want?" He snarled—he didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"What makes you think I want something? Can't a dude just pop in to say hi?" Deaq questioned, but Robbie was no fool.

"I know you're a cop."

"Oh, good." Deaq replied honestly; he hadn't been expecting to hear that—but while they were on the subject, Deaq had to pry. "What else do you know?"

"I know you set me up," He spat—still not looking up at his visitor.

"Buddy, Van and I… We didn't set you up. We didn't even agree on a price."

"No. But you work for her, don't you?"

"Her? Her who?"

"So you don't work for Wil, and this has nothing to do with Ted?"

"Will? Ted? What's going on, man?" Deaq feared Robbie might be referring to Billie, but he hadn't a clue about who Ted was, and he hoped to find that out by playing dumb.

Unfortunately, it was he whom was being played.

"I can't tell you—they'll kill me." Robbie replied, finally looking to Deaq. The fear in his eyes was so sincere Deaq almost felt bad about asking, but he only glared back—his eyes were explaining that that answer wasn't good enough.

"But, if you happened to uncover something while re-examining my stash…" He laughed as if he had just sold his soul. "Then you'd just be that much smarter than either one of them thought…"

Deaq grinned, thanked Robbie for his hint, then thanked the guard and showed himself out—straight down the hall. But, no sooner than Deaq had left, had Robbie had turned to the guard and asked to make a phone call.

* * *

Ah, what a week! Computers crashing, dryers breaking, finals final.. I'm about to go insane--I'll just stop there:) 

Well, let me know what you guys think--I know that was more than a brainful for me! I hope the 3 scenes together wasn't too confusing--but I had to squeeze them in to keep my word about Deaq in chapter 10--can you guess what's going to happen?

FoxyWombat - I'm flattered my story helped bring you back, and I'm glad to hear everythings are going well. I'm sorry your professors are being jerks, I've had my share--but nothing as bad as extra work--well, unless you count the mental work of decoding a mumbling rambler! hehe

ashlyns - No, Van didn't leave her for good--but boy do you sound like a villie--glad to see there is a larger base of Van/Billie fans than I thought!

Shalimar1 - I'm glad you loved that chapter--it was fun to write because I could so easily see it happening--Van's always over-inolved in everything, and Billie is really shut down--It practically wrote itself :)

prplerayne - Yes, Yes, Ted saved her. and Yes, yes, no children in the next chapter--I hope you weren't holding a baby during this chapter either--I was kind of heavy with the "bad news"

DKM - Gosh! I love this word love! Twice from you, and twice more from two others-- I'm feeling gidy. I'm glad you enjoyed the dynamics, and I hope I kept them up in this update. But honestly, I'm amazed you managed to squeeze out two more chapters of your own story! Go you!


	10. It Figured 1

**  
**

"Fabulous day, isn't it, Lieutenant?" 

The voice of death echoed throughout the Candy Store; it stopped her heart.

She didn't need to look to know the face—whether by the arrogant sound of his words or from the smile she felt radiating from his prissy lips, Billie knew her second greatest enemy was now involved. She had imagined he'd show up—sooner or later—he always did. He was like a shark drawn to blood; he was Hill. And, unfortunately, unlike Ted, he actually went out of his way to make her miserable.

It was almost as if that was his soul purpose in life.

Maybe it was; she didn't know or care. All she was sure of was that they had been fortunate enough to have slipped his noose in the past… She hoped that luck would remain—at least until Ted was out of the picture.

Still, it figured he would rear his ugly head now, when all of this was so close to being over. For the first time in almost two weeks, she had actually slept easy knowing Ted and Stacey were probably off to Mexico. The last thing she needed was Hill snooping around—retracing her every step, analyzing everything.

"I had hoped you'd be as happy to see me as I you—" The grin continued to light up his face, "As usual, I'm not disappointed."

She tried avoiding eye contact at all costs; she hoped that he'd go away if she ignored him long enough. She kept her head low and focused on her work, then looked towards her computer screen—but Hill knew the game she was playing, and he just stood smiling.

He knew that Billie Chambers had really screwed up this time—no amount of lame excuses, phony alibis, or smart-ass, cheap-shot comebacks could save her now. It would be even easier to get her with her boys gone—no backup, no defenses, just her.

Her willpower quickly faded; she hated that he was being so silent. What was he thinking? He was evidently in a very good mood, which only meant he had something on her; but how much? He had to know about Stacey, but she had a good feeling he didn't know much beyond that—not about Ted, or Robbie, or how any of them fit in together. Maybe if she played stupid long enough he'd go off and plot her demise elsewhere.

He'd be a lot easier to handle if he was elsewhere.

"What do you want, Hill?" She finally glared up at him.

"Oh, so many things" The words spilled freely from his fading smile, and for a moment he became lost in thoughts. "But right now, all I care for is seeing the look on your face when Parish and the rest of the board gets here."

Death's grin returned.

"That's right, Lieutenant." He laughed, "The rest of the board—surely a woman of_ your_ _supreme_ intelligence realizes you can't pull a stunt like this and get away with it? Oh, no, no, no! There are a lot of questions that need answering."

"What are you talking about? What questions?" She pried; the fear in her eyes was honest enough. She truly was afraid of him, what he knew, and how he'd use it, but she had only two options. She could play all rough and tough and hang herself in front of whatever board was heading her way, or she could show him her weakness. The more vulnerable she was, the more he would taunt her. If he would harass her, she might at least be able to figure out what exactly they knew—the more she knew of what he knew, the better she'd be able to explain herself without letting lose any new information.

He was just that predictable.

"Well," He shook his head happily, "let's start with, say, _'Why was Robert Felch arrested for crimes forensics proves he didn't commit?_' Then slowly move our way up to _'Why you have yet to return Stacey Jayden to her prison cell_'—better yet—'_Why did you remove the felon in the first place?" _

"First of all, get your facts straight." Her jaw nearly dropped in hearing his allegations, "We never arrested Felch; he up and confessed. And _second_, Stacey Jayden has nothing to do with—"

"Ah!" He snapped; his eyes widened with amusement. "The slip of a guilty conscience?"

Before Billie could even recognize the trap she had fallen into, Hill was looking her straight in the eyes waiting for her reaction—just waiting to see her realize it was already too late.

"See, I never said there was any sort of connection between the two, but with your reply and the given fact you are, again, looking away from me, I'm starting to suspect I correctly assumed you _are_ up to something—unlawful? Another of your underhanded plots to take down crime lords backfired?"

He had her exactly where he wanted her.

"I have to tell you, I'm shocked." He lied, "Fortunately, I'm feeling generous today. So, either you can look me straight in the face and tell me I'm mistaken, or you can fess up, and maybe I'll back off and let you sort things out. What do you say, Billie?"

>>>>

Knowing that his day could not possibly get any worse, Van sighed and closed his cell phone.

He had called his partner about twenty-three times now; there was nothing else he could do except call Billie and tell _her_ the bad news.

For some reason, though, dialing her number seemed easier than ever; he didn't even cringe when it started to ring. There was no way she could pin it on him—he wasn't to blame for screwing up. He had done everything as planned: he met with Reilly and offered him the cash—it was Deaq who failed to uphold his part of the plot.

Good-old, reliable Deaq. He didn't show. And, to top it off, Reilly turned down the offer. So, what exactly did that leave him to do? He could not have threatened the man without "the cop" nearby—without Deaq there to "save him", Reilly would have gone to the authorities, and he would have been arrested for real.

That hadn't been the plan, so he had been forced to bite his lip and walk away.

"This better be an emergency." Billie snapped; the anger in her voice humbled him. Ratting out his partner now would surely cost him his life—but how else could he tell her? He wasn't speaking to usual, cold-self Billie—usual cold-self Billie would have snapped _after_ learning the case had been compromised; the Billie he was talking to now was highly agitated attack-Billie.

For one reason or another, she was in a rotten mood, and he knew better than to get on her bad side when she was in a rotten mood.

"Well, define emergency" He joked, hoping to lighten her up just enough to let her know the case_ may_ have gone a little sideways; his humor didn't help.

"If it wasn't life or death before—" her voice lowered as she turned away from her meeting, "it is now."

"Okay then," He couldn't help but laugh. Someway, somehow, nothing he ever did was good enough for her—here he was doing everything right, and he still managed to get crap for it. He just didn't care anymore. "—Since you're in such a lovely mood already, Deaq blew the case."

"He what!" She yelled; she sighed, and her voice went soft once more, "Let me talk to him!"

"If he was here, do you really think I'd be the one calling you?" He couldn't help but smile; he had her there. Still, he had a feeling something was wrong; he would have asked, but he knew she'd just hang up. So he sighed and explained,"He didn't show, and I can't get a hold of him."

"Well keep trying, and when you do find him I want the two of you back here _with_ another plan!"

* * *

Please consider this "_Part 1"_ of chapter 10--it was crazy of me to try and fit all of this in one post, so I have to break it into two--sorry guys--I'll have to explain the Deaq thing in the next chapter. But I do apologize for this taking so long and I promise to try and get the rest of 10 up before the weekend :)

* * *


	11. It Figured 2

"Robbie, heyy." Purred a feminine voice from the other end of the phone; the sound of snipping scissors followed her soft snarl, and a warm grin overtook her lips.

"Stace, listen, I can't chat. Let me speak to Ted."

"Teddy isn't here right now," Her innocent voice spoke lies, "What should I tell him when he gets back?"

"You were right." He sighed—he had been told only to report to Ted, and Ted was gone. He was uneasy about how Stacey would relay his message, but he didn't have a choice—this was his only phone call. "I had a visitor today, one of hers." His words were slow, "Seemed upset, I don't think she told him anything, but I know he's not buying my confession. He'll be by my place later—looking for God knows what."

"Good. Thanks." She said looking around Robbie's house, "I'll let him know as soon as he gets back."

The blonde woman flipped shut her phone and tossed it down on the table beside her. She then grabbed another fistful of her golden hair and slid her fingers down its length. With her other hand, she took the scissors and started cutting just past her chin, letting it fall to the floor in a flurry of fine strands.

She dropped the scissors and ran her fingers through the remnants of her hair, then sighed as she made her way into the bedroom where her lover slept.

"Wake up; that was Robbie." She said kicking the side of the bed, "Turns out, you were wrong about her— she can't control them."

"What are you talking about?" Ted mumbled rolling to his side. He stretched out his long arms, yawned, and rubbed the side of his jaw.

"One of the boys—he's asking questions. Gonna pay us a little visit."

"When?" Ted sat up and leaned back against his arms. He never imagined either one of Billie's boys to disobey her, so he hadn't planned anything in the event they did. He had to think fast.

"Don't know," She laughed behind fear-filled eyes, "but Rob sounded freaked. What if he's on to us? What if he finds us out?"

"Hey," Ted smiled warmly, "Don't worry. I'll call Theo, Frit, and Davey—we'll handle the kid. You get the pictures developed, put together a nice package for our lovely lieutenant,"

Stacey rolled her eyes and started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm. "Oh," His smile had faded, but his lips now split from a ravishing grin. "And why don't you buy yourself a new dress. Cus' I'm thinkin' we're gonna get you that ticket after all."

>>>>

"Will," Deaq whispered jamming his car key into the ignition and giving it a sharp turn.

He had been right all along.

He had known something was off about the Felch case, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized the little things that had been 'off' about Billie— ever since she had assigned the case in the first place.

But could she be the woman Robbie had mentioned?

It wasn't exactly impossible. He had worked for her almost a year now, and he still knew next to nothing about her. But what could she possibly have to do with Felch? Or even this Ted guy?

He didn't know, but he was sure going to find out.

With a silent huff, he jerked the clutch into reverse and backed out of his parking spot; when he had gotten far enough out of the space, he turned the wheel, shifted, took off.

"Will," He thought once more, pulling out his cell phone. Using only his right hand, he flipped open the device and let his thumb hovered the '5', but he did not press it. Instead, he bit his lip; he wasn't sure of what he'd say to her, but he could always figure that out once she picked up. He shrugged off his worries, but before he had started dialing, a message popped up on the small screen.

He laughed.

More than twenty missed calls—all from Van. What was his deal? He shrugged and sighed before hitting the 'send' button to return his partner's _calls_; as it started to ring it hit him.

The case.

He cursed under his breath and slammed on his breaks—after nearly running a red light. He had been so blinded by his quest for closure he had totally forgotten about the meet. And Van wasn't about to let him forget it either.

"Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you for hours!" His partner yelled the moment he had picked up.

"Yeah, man," He laughed, "I can _see_ that. Does Billie know?"

"I guess you could say that, yes." Van's voice replied nervously. "Billie knows."

Deaq could tell his partner had ratted him out, but he couldn't blame him. Van had every right to be angry with him—he had blown the cased. He only wished he knew what to say.

"What'd she say?" He asked out of curiosity. He knew she had to be beyond pissed about it; he laughed. It was funny— once again, he had been moments away from telling the woman off, and, once again, he was silenced—this time out of fear of her wrath.

He had to wonder why he cared.

"Um, something along the lines of: 'Find partner. Find new plan Get back here, life or death, yada yada' You know, the usual."

"Great,"

"Yeah, so where are you, man?"

"On my way back to the Candy Store; you?" He asked though he really didn't care. He only had one thing on his mind—and that was solving this mystery.

"Race tracks." Van replied with a chuckle. "I didn't want to leave, incase you showed up."

"I'm sorry, Van." He sighed, "I really didn't mean to stand you up like that—just had to sort some things out, you know?"

"Whatever, dude." Van laughed, "Just do me a favor and make sure you're back before I am."

Deaq smiled and hung up, then tossed his phone into the passenger's seat.

He would beat his partner back to the office; he was already half-way there, and he was looking forward to having a little sit-down with his boss.

>>>>

"Is everything all right, Lieutenant?" Hill asked as insincerely as possible. He had been sitting high and mighty for the past half hour—probably waiting for the perfect time to share his little discovery. He had made so many interruptions throughout the meeting she had been moments away from giving in and actually confessing herself—but Van called.

"Yes." She laughed nervously, "Everything is just dandy,"

Her response had been as sincere as Hill's question—things were far from fine. Here she was being torn apart by this committee while her boys were out there only adding to the department's list of disasters.

Still, she was glad he called when he did.

The news had been terrible, but it could have been worse, and in knowing that she remembered why she had gotten herself into this mess in the first place—to protect them.

"Well, that's a relief" Hill smirked; out of the six people present in the room, only he and Parish had managed to detect her sarcasm. "God knows this department cannot afford another mishap. Maybe you should—"

"That's enough, Rolland." Parish interrupted with a sigh. "Lieutenant Chambers is well aware of the troubles she has presented to us, and I think that she should at least have the chance to explain herself and her actions. I've said before, I know her well enough to know she'd never put herself in this sort of situation unless it was ultimately necessary." His eyes turned towards Billie's in support, but she would not tell them a thing—he could tell.

"Look," Billie laughed, "If you give me the chance to sort things out, I will, I swear. But, I've said all that I'm going to say."

"Very well," Said the suited man beside Parish.

"We'll be in touch." Spoke the second, shaking his head in disappointment.

The third man simply packed up his brief case and stood, shook a few hands and then left. Parish followed this man after giving up on getting through to Billie; the other two men soon trailed behind—leaving her and Hill together again.

"Thanks," She sighed, not really sure of why he had kept his mouth shut. She sensed a pattern in his actions—he'd scare her to death, then help her out a tiny bit, but, in the end, he'd ultimately betray her. Yet, for whatever reason, he had spared her for now.

"Right," He snickered with rolling eyes, "Listen, I don't know what you're hiding, and I don't want to alarm you, but if Stacey isn't back behind those bars very—and I mean VERY, quickly—you will be."

She smirked in seeing Hill's catch, as Hill smirked in revealing it—but neither one of them had been counting on a third voice entering their conversation. "Billie! What's going on? You having a party in here or something?"

"Or something," Hill sneered, looking up from his threat—it had all been perfect until Deaq's interruption—but he had a feeling she had still heard him loud and clear. If anything, she looked quite uncomfortable now that Deaq had entered; he didn't have to think twice about it.

"So it is them, 'ey?" He whispered slyly in her ear; she shook her head.

She turned towards him so that her back faced Deaq, and whispered, "It's _for_ them, and if you so much as breathe a hint in their direction, I will kill you myself."

Hill nodded and looked up smugly at the man now standing before him, chuckling at her verbal punch. "You have twenty-four hours."

Billie sighed and looked aimlessly towards the ground as he left, and Deaq got the picture. He brought his fist to his lips and laughed himself—he should have figured she wouldn't be talking.

He _would_ have to figure this out on his own.

"I miss a party, or something?" Van yelled with the same sarcasm Deaq had used; he had just apparently overseen another awkward moment between his partner and boss, and was hoping to lighten the tension between them.

The plan was a failure.

Deaq turned and left, Billie walked over to her desk and began looking busy, and, again, Van was left to wonder.

* * *

**Tidbit: **Billie's phone number (according to her card in pilot) is 213-555-0100 (I wasn't sure if it was area code 215, but 215 is for PA, 213 is downtown LA)  
The address is: 150 N. Los Angeles Street ( LA CA, obviously) I couldn't read her zip, on account of her thumb, but I'm assuming it was 90012, because the 150 address is the LAPD headquarters—and 90012 is their zip.--just food for thought

* * *

Reviews, reviews! Okay, first, I want to thank you guys for sticking with me--despite my disappearance. Second, I want to address everything, so here I go: 

Shalimar, I'm glad that you're seeing the scenes the way I am--it tells me I'm doing something right, and I'm glad you can feel the tension between Billie and Hill--I have quite a roll for him--but I hope I'm not being overly dramatic about all this--I'm already thinking of cutting scenes--I don't want to seem too farfetched

DKM, I have no idea how you do it--5AM? I can barely get up before 8 (I've really gotten lazy). I'm glad you liked the last two updates--and though the whole stalking thing is a tad creepy, I'm very flattered that you would consider stalking me over my story! Hill and death--yeah those words stick out in my mind--I hate his teeth too.. oye!

prplerayne, I STILL haven't answered your Deaq questions, and I'm sorry! I know I promised to have them ready for chapter 10, but as you can see there was just too much story that needed to be covered first--definitely the next post! I swear! ((I can't write anything else if I don't get rid of him :p)) I really hadn't planned on elaborating the event, but I do owe it to you, so I will. Hope you can forgive me :(

ashlyns, thanks so much for stickin with me! I guess I'm no longer good at this deadline stuff--it used to be my only way of writing, then I got beat up on about my grammar so I was forced to buckle down and edit-edit-edit--(hopefully I haven't made too many errors with this story!) Anyway, I think that after this, I'll only post stories that I actually have complete--that way, you guys won't have to wait so long!

Until next time :D


	12. Revisited 1

**Chapter 12  
Revisited  
12/03/2006**

* * *

_"Wil, are you still reading that Roberts file?"_

Billie dropped the folder she'd been holding to her desk and leaned back in her chair.

She wasn't dreaming, or even hallucinating, she was just thinking. Running through the case in her mind--the entire case, from day one. She knew she could remember every detail; she knew she could relive it if she tried--and that scared her. It was a place she never wanted to be again, but she didn't have much choice now.

She needed to find Stacey.

----------------

Deaq silenced the ringer on his phone.

It was Van. As usual. He didn't have time to deal with his partner's questions—not now. Enough was enough.

Whatever had just happened at the Candy Store had been the last straw. He was through playing 'look the other way.'

He wanted answers.

Van was naïve to think, well, Van just didn't think at all. But he was also naïve to shrug off Felch's confession as some twist of fate; there was something to it.

He tossed aside the cell and got out of his car.

-

_"Deaq, it's me."_ Van rolled his eyes after hearing the 'beep' of Deaq's voicemail.

_"Look, I know you don't like it when I call you like, hundreds of times, so why don't you just do us both a favor and actually check your messages today, okay?"_

-

3585 Huntington Drive; this was the place.

He had been here exactly two weeks ago—for a party. Felch never did say what for, but he should have figured there had to be a reason for such a celebration. He just never expected it to have anything to do with Billie.

He sighed and looked up at the two-story apartment.

An uneasy feeling met him at the front door, but he shook it off with a laugh—he needed to do this—he needed to know.

As if he was going to knock, Deaq raised his hand, but remembering Robbie was a newly incarcerated bachelor, he knew no one would answer. What was he going to knock for?

-----

_"Billie called Reilly—left him an anonymous tip—said his life was in danger."_

-----_  
_

Without wasting a moment, Deaq kicked down the door. It opened easy, as if it had been unlocked, but he didn't care to check. His eyes scanned the room, and when he was sure he was alone, he went to worl--with Robbie's words echoing in his mind.

The stash. 'Reexamine the stash.'

Felch kept his drugs hidden well, but he had revealed his secret location to them the night of the party.

With a grin, Deaq walked over to the stairs to his left and made his way to the top; he back stepped twice, and crouched just below first step down, pulled up the carpet and slid out the wood, but to his surprise, it was gone.

Every last bit of it was missing, and before he could even wonder how, why, or who, he saw the shadow of a man sketched over the empty hole before him.

He could not speak—he could not react—he could only receive the foot that was meant to meet his face; it sent him tumbling down the stairs.

* * *

Apologies, guys. I know it's been a while, and I know that is an understatement! But if anyone is still here, shout back. I promise I can explain.


	13. Revisited 2

**Chapter 13  
Revisited 2  
3/30/2006**

* * *

_"I just can't believe this guy doesn't have a jacket. With all the stuff he's done, he should be looking at life—why don't we have anything on him?"_

Billie had been wearing a black sweater and blue jeans. She'd been sitting with her feet up on her partner's desk, in their small office, on the first floor of the police station. It was empty, the way that Kelly liked it; clean and simple.

"Long story short?" Kelly had laughed, "I don't know. I mean, I've been tracking Ted for years, and every time I get close enough to bust him, he finds a way to disappear. Worse yet, he always manages to get some sap to take his fall—I just don't get this guy."

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much-—" Billie smiled, waving the manila folder like a trophy, "with this little novel of yours, here, there isn't a chance in hell he'll slip the noose. We'll get him; we always do."

"I know." Kelly grinned, dropping her neck backwards with a sigh of relief. "Hey, since that Richard guy you've been seeing is out of town, why don't you stop by my house Sunday. We're having a roast—the whole family is coming."

"I'd like to, but I don't know. I mean, I should be home—what if he calls?"

"You're too young to stay home and wait for some loser's phone call, Will—you've got your whole life to do that! Come on, you know Amy loves seeing you. What do you say?"

"We'll see."

"All right, well, I have to go home early—I still need to find extension cords if I'm ever going to get those lights up!"

"Oh, hey, make sure you drop that file off with Joe before you leave. I want this guy, and I have a feeling Christmas is going to come early this year…"

--------------------

Billie took a deep breath and shook away the chills that had her frozen. She grabbed the sides of her head and closed her eyes--not letting herself think about what came next. She needed to stay focused. Stace was too smart to get caught, now that she was home free.

--------------------

"Come on, Dude." Van laughed. He couldn't believe his partner would stand him up. Again.

With a deep sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his Blackberry, and—exactly as he'd remembered—Deaq had sent him a message saying he'd be there.

That had been around 1:30, and it was now 3:15. Reilly had shown up precisely at 2.

Deaq still wasn't answering his cell phone, and Billie's was off. Her work phone was also busy, so he was, once again, ready to quit.

--------------------

"Officer Chambers?"

Billie had looked up from the desk to see a small, blonde haired woman peeking into their office. "Hi. I'm Special Agent Gerard, with the F.B.I. –We spoke on the phone?"

"No…" Billie laughed without a second thought, "I don't think so. Perhaps you spoke with my partner, Kelly Barton?"

Puzzled, the blonde shook her head. "No. I specifically asked for you, Oh, God. You don't think Detective Barton could have intercepted the message?"

"Intercepted? What? What message?"

"It's come to our attention that your partner. Kelly. She's been tracking a very dangerous man." She leaned forward and presented Billie with a picture.

"Ted." Billie said it thoughtlessly.

"You know him?" The woman sounded surprised.

"Yeah. Of course. Kelly has been tracking that bastard for years."

"We know. But what's crucial is that he does too. Your partner is in danger."

--------------------

After spending hours on the phone, Billie slammed down the receiver. She leaned back in her chair, huffed out a deep breath, and shook her head.

She half expected this.

She'd been out of the game for a while, now, and her credibility was low. She wasn't even sure she was scary anymore— Had she been able to find someone with information on the mischievous blonde, they probably wouldn't have told her anyway. At least not until AFTER she'd kicked their asses or threatened to lock them up--and since she could do neither of those things over the telephone, she knew she'd have to find Stacey the hard way.

_"Your partner is in danger."_ The words echoed fresh in her mind, and she could remember exactly how she'd felt the minute she'd heard them.

--------------------

"Danger? I'm sorry."

"Look. You and I both know that guys like Ted don't stay off the radar by obeying the law or paying their time. They stay off the radar because they have ways around the system."

Billie laughed as she remembered Stacey's eloquent speech. "You 'know' this—You see it every day. It's what you fight to prevent. It's our job." Stacey paused, "This guy. Ted? We don't have much on him, but it seems he… Is your partner still here?"

"No. She went to pick up her dau…" Billie ran for the phone, but Stacey kept her from picking up the receiver.

"I know you're concerned, but if you call and warn her, and he's listening…"

Billie stepped back.

"Tell me where she is, and I'll send my team in. We can end this, once and for all."

"Amy's ballet class ends at five-thirty. It's right in town. Miss Libby's. Song and Dance."

* * *

Haha, please note the date of that post! At one point, I had most of the story complete.. I had the scenes plotted out on poster board, with a time-line and everything. I had collages and I even had a video. The first part of that is the only remaining piece of the original story--the rest has been edited, and, from here on in, it's from scratch. 

No more promises from me, because promises are what got me in the mess in the first place. I kept having to edit and rewrite to get it perfect, and that's frustrating. So, between frustration and school, I fell out of my groove, got caught up in other stories, and became obsessed with making videos.

Five months ago, we lost everything in a house fire--so when I say that was the rest of the original story--I really mean it. I'm so mad at myself for not uploading my other stories, because I had tons. This one survived, so I figure it deserves finishing.

I'm so glad that, after two years, I still have you reading! That there is more confidence I can get from a huge audience of readers--and it is really appreciated! Please know I'm trying my hardest to get this one done, and from here on out, it's all for you!!


	14. Hello Again

"No, blond hair--long blond hair. Yep. No--No... No. Blond. Like, Yellow? ...Light, yes. That's right. No. Not that light. Okay. Okay--hello?"

Billie cursed under her breath and, again, slammed down the receiver. She'd been on her way out the door when a former snitch returned her call; she took a chance on his word, and wasted more of her time on his wild goose chase. It was now four hours into her deadline, and she still had nothing. No leads, no hunches, no ideas, and no clues. She placed her palm against her forehead and closed her eyes.

While thinking, she heard a man call out her name. Too calm to be Van's voice, and not distinct enough for Deaq's, or Parrish's, she knew it had to be Hill. The he'd said her name--with a sneering laugh should have been enough to give him away. She didn't bother looking up.

"Is that what they're calling you these days? Billie?"

The voice continued; she felt the blood seize in her veins, and her lungs freeze. It was Ted, standing in front of her desk in a brown suit--arms behind his back.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you," he smiled. "I just, couldn't help but overhear--were you talking about my Stacey? It's funny, see, I came here to talk to you about her. What a coincidence. Nice place, by the way."

Billie forced herself to exhale, and tried her best to resume breathing, but something inside her knew what was going on. It was all too familiar.

"How'd you find it?" She managed to ask; her voice was shaky and suspicious. He smiled menacingly.

"Now you should know better." He started with a grin. "Your boys are easy to follow." Ted frowned, shook his head, and, from behind his back, pulled out a yellow mailing envelope. "A little too easy."

Without a bit of hesitance, Ted placed his package on Billie's desk. She stared blankly at it, too afraid to move.

"We've both been great at keeping our promises, but you did tell me that they'd stay out of my way. To make up for it, though, I'm willing to make another deal. I want another plane ticket. For Stacey. Passports, IDs, the works. Oh, and a hundred grand would be nice; I'm not talking candy bars."

Billie laughed, still uneasy. "You don't need my money, Ted."

"I know. But I might as well make the most of it, huh?"

"Excuse me,"

Van stood up from his bar stool and turned to see a petite young woman looking him over. She looked like a typical party-goer and fit right in with the rest of the crowd; tight pants, short shirt, dyed hair. Blond, with blue tips. "Are you Van?"

"Uh, Yeah. Can I help you?" He asked somewhat surprised. The music was so loud, he could barely hear her, but he tried to be polite anyway.

"Would you come with me, please?" Her eyes motioned towards the exit, just past the dance floor.

"Look, lady. I'm kinda busy now. Working." He yelled again.

"Me too." She laughed, pulled out a badge, and smiled. "Let's go."

* * *

Haha, I'm interested to see how well this works out. I no longer remember the time frame i had planned for the story--hope this gives me enough time for everything. 


	15. Decisions 1

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE; THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOYALTY

As he rested his back against the brick wall behind him, Van laughed uneasily. He wasn't entirely sure what to do or say, because, without Deaq and Deaq's badge, there would be no convincing this woman that his bribes and threats to Saunders were actually part of an elaborate, undercover drug bust.

The story was so far-fetched he wouldn't have believed it himself, but that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was knowing that even if he managed to talk his way out of a sobriety test, he'd still wind up behind bars. And, at this point, Billie would probably leave him there.

His only hope was to get his boss on the phone before he was taken into custody, but he still had to convince her to give him a phone call.

"So, listen, if this has anything to do with the horse, and the Saunders guy," Van grabbed his chin, hoping his good looks and clueless charm would be enough to stall her, "I promise there is a logical, rational, somewhat unbelievable but totally true explanation for all of it."

"Shut up." The woman snapped, unimpressed. "I don't have time for your games. I know all about you, Officer Ray. I know about your partner, your boss, your undercover operations, the busts, the plots, the schemes, but what I don't know is where you stand on the arrest of Robert Felch, the heroin, and, most importantly, the whereabouts of Stacey Jayden."

The words spilled from her lips faster than Van's mind was able process them; his own lips parted to ask his own question, but he could barely form a thought. And, feeling as though he'd been stuck in a bad dream, where nothing really made sense, he shook his head and reacted the only way he could.

"Huh?"

She smirked, and tilted her head towards the bar door. "Come on, you're going to need one. big. drink."

X()X

Billie sat, still in her chair, and exhaled, hoping only for the courage to move.

Determined, she took a breath in, opened her eyes, and, with a small laugh, grabbed the package from her desk. She'd come too far, and endured so much; she was not about to let some stupid, little package send her over the edge.

Despite her racing heart, she tore the seal, and dumped the envelope's contents out before her.

What she'd found only reinstated the feeling of uneasiness she'd finally managed to shake.

Pictures.

Dozens and dozens of surveillance shots; Photos of Van and Deaq—at the race tracks, the Candy Store, on the road, and at home. She closed her eyes and, with one trembling hand, reached up to spread them out.

After another deep breath, she forced herself to open her eyes once more. She saw photographs of Deaq, laying unconscious on a slab of concrete. Her throat locked up, and her body froze, but even then, she knew that Deaq was the least of her worries.

Ted was an honest criminal, and unless he was provoked, Deaq would be safe.

As she fully embraced that thought, she felt her fear subside. It was an amazing relief, knowing what she knew, but she wouldn't kid herself. She was still in a horrible situation.

The only thing that had changed was that Ted now had his leverage; this was his checkmate. The game was over and unless she could figure out a way to outsmart him, Stacey was a free woman. The two of them would be off in Mexico, and she'd be stuck picking up the pieces of her tarnished career.

Granted, it was a lot harder now that her boys had been dragged in. No longer would she be able to look the other way, or pretend nothing had happened. Something HAD happened and sooner or later, she'd have to explain Deaq's disappearance. Her boys would want answers—answers that wouldn't make sense unless they knew the whole story. They'd connect the dots and then there'd be no denying any of it—Robbie's mysterious confession, her odd behavior and injuries, Hill's investigation, Stacey—everything would bubble up and there was no stopping it.

Knowing there was but one possible outcome was almost a relief—almost as much as a relief it was to hear the door open, and Van's anxious voice call out her name. If he caught her now, with these pictures on her desk, she'd have no choice but to tell him everything. Her conscience would be cleared, and they could work together to save Deaq.

It was a good plan. The best one she had.

She collected the pictorial threats, and stacked them neatly on her desk, but as she did a crumpled piece of yellow paper fell to the floor. On it were the words to a nursery rhyme, rewritten, of course, in a gruesome way.


	16. Decisions 2

Billie felt relieved in knowing his biggest hunch was that she was on drugs—so much so she nearly laughed the moment he'd suggested it. But she managed to keep her straight face, and get rid of him without releasing any new information.

Of that, she was proud.

She hated herself for lying and manipulating him, even though she knew she had no other choice. The minute she'd seen his face, she knew she couldn't tell him. She knew he wouldn't understand, and that he shouldn't have to. Ted was her problem, and she had to deal with him. But her obligation to her job, and to protecting him, hadn't been the only thing to influence her last minute decision to hide the photos; she'd also been stuck by a small glimmer of hope, and, for whatever reason, during Van's confrontation, she remembered Amy—her partner's daughter. The child had been kept alive for weeks on sedatives and date rape drugs; she'd walked away from the entire ordeal entirely oblivious to her mother's violent death.

She prayed that he'd used the same precautions with kidnapping Deaq. Strategically, it would be the best choice--the only choice, really. Letting Deaq walk away with memories of his abduction would be stupid, and this thought sent Billie into a panic. Deaq would hunt him down, and she knew Ted was too smart to have another cop on his tail; it was clear that if she didn't find him clueless, she'd find him dead.

Nausea set in, and she forced herself to take another deep breath. Doubt filled her mind. What if she was wrong about everything? Maybe he wasn't such a good guy? What if he was planning to kill Deaq, just as he'd killed Kelly and the others? She didn't know why she'd made him up to be such a charming guy; he was a murderer.

The truth was, she'd overlooked so many details, the drugs were just the beginning. All these years she'd feared him, keeping him and what he'd done blocked from her mind. Not once did she stop to see him as a man. A creature of habit. A criminal. Perhaps she'd been too young to realize it, or maybe she had been just a foolish rookie, but she finally knew what she had to do. She had to think about Ted and Stacey, find their patterns and flaws.She'd have to review everything to find Deaq, and it worked.

It shocked her to realize the concrete chamber Deaq was held in, was the same on in which she'd found Amy. And the photo they'd sent her was proof enough.

* * *

Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, or whatever holiday they celebrate. Holler back if you're still with me, I have more coming if anyone is still reading. Just let me know. Also, speak up if there are any questions... I know I'm confusing myself with all these time gaps, so feel free to ask away.

Until next time ;)


	17. Dominos 1

"I'll be honest, I never thought you'd show."

Van heard the coo of the woman he'd met just hours ago, but found himself at a loss for words when he realized how different she looked. She wasn't the punctually professional Federal Agent from before, and her sudden change in attire was certainly suspicious. No longer was she wearing her classy black suit; instead, she wore tight jeans and an old t-shirt. Her bleach blond hair was a tad darker, accented with blue tips that were almost impossible to detect with the matching, flashing lights of the nightclub. He shook his head, angrily.

Put on or not, he was not, nor would he ever be, buying it. He made that clear in his voice as he asked why she'd bothered to come. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I figured I'd give you the benefit of the doubt." She bit her lip as she sat down beside him and flagged down the bartender with a mere wink.

"Or, is it because you want me to incriminate my boss?" He said smiling dryly, before taking a swing of his beer.

"Lieutenant Chambers has incriminated herself. I don't need you or your testimony to prove that." She shrugged.

"Then why are we here?"

The woman smirked, and tilted her head towards the back of the club. "Do you see the man in the corner; stout. bald. Dark glasses?"

"So what?"

"His name is David. They call him "Davey," ...but his name is David. David LaSalle. Has Mina, ...'Billie' ever mentioned him before?"

"And what if she has?" Van replied, again with sarcasm.

"Look. I get it, Van. You don't trust me." 

"Oh, I don't trust you? Damn right, I don't trust you." He snorted, jumping up from his seat. "...You show up here, just about blow my cover. Throw all this crazy information in my face, accuse Billie of.. of..." As Van shook his head wildly trying to sum up the accusations, she grabbed his arm and stared him down. The solemn look on her face ended both his sentence and his anger, because he knew, just by that look, something had happened. Something bad.

"I think he killed your partner, and you're next." She licked her lip and looked away.

Van didn't sit. He closed his eyes as he felt the room spin around him. He took a short breath, or two, but he didn't sit. His head shook softly, tongue resting hard against his bottom teeth, as he searched desperately for some sort of reaction, but he found none.

"Sit down, before he knows you know." She smirked, hating to be the messenger. Her message had yet to sink it.

"It's why I'm here, Van. Something is going on here. Something big, and your boss knows about it. Billie knows. She's known all along. How many more people have to die before I figure it out? Before we make the case? You know her better than anyone. Help me."

Van sat and looked away, his mind racing with thoughts.

X0X

"Yah kno' how mu'ch he missed yew?" Fritz smiled warmly. Billie crossed her arms.

She refused to acknowledge the fact that, out of all of the people she'd met through Ted, Fritz was her favorite. He was nice, funny, and, of course, good looking, but at the end of the day, he was still a tool. A pawn in the game. Always dispensible, never anything more.

She kept her body tense and her voice firm. "I want to see him."

"Well, he ain't heah. Yew kno' th'at." He rolled his eyes. She nodded, and laughed sarcastically.

"Yeah. I know. I want to see Deaq."

* * *

Nr.Six - Thanks so much for sticking around, it means a lot to me. If it wasn't so late I'd keep posting. But for some reason the day is gone before I get a chance to write (or even sit down). Why is that?

3AM already--I hope it's worth it. It seemed grammatically sound, but who knows with me. Enjoy, and I'll keep them coming. Night (or.. Good Morning?)

Avillie


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